Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Changing Colors

Hot, dry, low humidity, I love it. The weather this time of year is seriously my favorite of all the seasons in San Diego. There is something about breathing in that dry hot air that reminds me of growing up, looking forward to the new school year, then the changing of the leaves and then Halloween. The plum trees that lined the street next to us would turn into black puddles on the asphalt, and my mom would drive real slow, down the streets in our neighborhood with her wheels close to the curb so we could all indulge in the dry crunch of the leaves. "Oh wait! - listen" she'd blurt out onto our conversations. She didn't even tell us why she would want us silent - we knew as soon as we started to hear that crunching noise and at that point any conversation became completely meaningless.My bedroom had the best eastern view in the house, because through my window you could see the browning rolling hills of Vista, to Fallbrook and then all the way to the mountains. You couldn't see in anywhere else in the whole house, you could only see that from my room. And I liked to think that no one else had ever even noticed that it was even there, so in my mind it was all mine. It was a gorgeous view and I would always look out during the fall and admire those burnt sienna colored fields that led up to the far off mountains and breathe in that dry air and be in heaven. I love the way weather like this brings a stillness to the night, when creatures are quiet and you don't have to wear socks. I just drift off into another world...